


Brightly Above

by Darling_Pretty



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Sharing a Bed, Steggy Secret Santa, Undercover as a Couple, but most of it is set during TFA soooo, enjoy, there's a lot of handwaving and mild suspension of disbelief but shhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:28:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22055569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darling_Pretty/pseuds/Darling_Pretty
Summary: Two Christmases, several lifetimes apart.
Relationships: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers
Comments: 5
Kudos: 87





	Brightly Above

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as part of the Steggy Secret Santa Exchange 2k19 as a gift for neverknowhowmanydreams. Merry Christmas!

Peggy shivers beside him, her mouth in a grim line; Steve considers wrapping his arm around her shoulders, but somehow that feels that might be worse, if only because she’ll be annoyed with him. None of their clothes are that warm, meant to disguise them as poor travellers in the Russian countryside. It’s still odd to him that he was picked for this mission, given how _not_ unnoticeable he is in this new body, but here he is, transporting important intelligence behind enemy lines.

The files are hidden, fastened to Peggy’s body. As part of her disguise, she’s got a false swell to her belly; he knows the thought was that it would make her more trustworthy, less suspicious in the eyes of anyone who might question them. That said, every time he looks at her and sees the simple band on her finger matching his, the swell of her belly, even if it’s false, makes his brain go a bit fuzzy at the edges, so he’s been really very focused on the road in front of them.

“It’s going to snow soon,” she says as they trudge into a small village about a day away from their final goal.

He nods. So far nothing has gone to plan; surprise storms and loss of contact with support have meant nothing short of a comedy of errors and unfortunate delays. They’re not meant to stop here; they don’t have any contacts, no place arranged. But they’re going to have to figure something out.

Peggy shivers again and this time, he _does_ wrap his arm around her. At the very least it’ll help their cover in this populated area, since he supposes he’s meant to be taking care of his pregnant wife.

In the village square there’s a small inn. It’s their first stop.

He steps back; Peggy is the linguist and he loves watching her work. She asks for a room in Russian and Steve’s heart sinks as the man at the front desk shakes his head. Reaching into her pocket, Peggy pulls out several coins but still nothing. Steve watches her become near pitiful, rubbing her belly. But nothing works.

Finally, even stubborn, wonderful Peggy gives up, swearing under her breath as she returns to him.

“Nothing?”

“No room at the inn,” she responds, still growling out her frustration. “How wildly appropriate.”

With a jolt, Steve remembers it’s December 24. He almost laughs with the bitter coincidence. “Think we can count on three wise men arriving to give us gifts?”

Peggy’s lips quirk into a smirk. “Seems we’ll have to make our own wisdom,” she says and leads the way into the small tavern nearby. Pulling his arm around her waist, he’s lucky enough to realize he’s going to get a front row seat to Peggy Carter at work as a spy. He knows she’s good in the same way he knows going west far enough will lead them back to France, but he’s not gotten to watch her manipulate people, to prey on expectations and use it to her advantage.

Within ten minutes, she’s got warm food in front of them without diminishing their already dwindling budget. Within forty, she’s made friends with several locals and he’s stunned when she rises from the table, beckoning him to follow. Steve’s Russian is… _passable_ , but Peggy speaks with the ease of a native speaker and nearly to fast for him to really follow. She leans in, translating, “The man and his wife have offered us shelter in his barn; they don’t have room to host guests but he wasn’t about to let a pregnant woman suffer in the cold.”

It takes Steve a moment to remember that he’s supposed to respond, since Peggy’s breath is hot on his neck as they trudge through the snow.

. . .

Hours later, the storm is in full force and Steve is wildly glad not to be out in it; his own metabolism burns hot enough that he’d be fine, but he doesn’t want to think of Peggy shivering and worried about frostbite.

They make a bed of hay and several handmade quilts given to them by the man—Alek, Peggy told him earlier, making introductions, though Steve’s brain had gone a little fuzzy again when she called him her husband, even knowing it was nothing more than their cover to explain their travel together. Though every night before she’s been thrilled to unstrap the false belly that houses the information, she leaves it on tonight.

“I imagine it would come as quite a shock to walk in and see your guest has removed her womb,” Peggy jokes, though he can tell she’s not thrilled at the prospect. He knows the straps cause her shoulders to ache, the shift in balance causing her lower back some pain too. _Better than being stopped with the package in an easily searched spot,_ she’d insisted when he’d questioned the reason for such a plan. _No sane person is going to ask a pregnant woman to strip down_. He had to consciously unclench his fists when he realized she’d thought of this angle because of her experiences moving through the world.

“I’m sorry you’re doing all the hard work,” he says genuinely.

“Yes, well, somehow I think you might draw attention if you were the pregnant one.”

She’s joking, flippantly trying to move the conversation away, but Steve isn’t ready to let it go. “I mean it, Peggy. You’re doing _everything_. Carrying the package, getting us shelter. Everything. I’m your glorified bodyguard.”

He’s stuck his foot in his mouth; Peggy’s face closes off. “Jealousy isn’t a good look on you, Captain.”

“No, I—I mean…” Steve hesitates; he usually has bad luck trying to press on when this happens. “I just mean I feel really lucky to watch you work.”

That seems to mollify her, which is good because he means it.

“Yes, well.” Peggy turns her gaze away from him and he breathes a sigh of relief. “We should get some rest. We’ll need to move the moment the storm clears.”

Before this, he’d have hesitating climbing under any blanket with Peggy but they’ve been trekking for the past week and being close is second nature now. Especially with the wind howling outside. He lies on his side, letting Peggy tug the blanket towards her side; she needs the heat more than he does.

She sighs, rolling her head to stretch her neck. In the dark, he’s bolder. “Here,” Steve hears himself say and reaches out to massage her neck and shoulders. Peggy stiffens and he freezes. Maybe he’s overstepped his bounds.

“Why’d you stop?” Her voice is quiet and Steve immediately picks up the pace, working knotted muscles until they smooth. There’s a particularly stubborn knot right at the base of her neck and he focuses there, gratified with the immense sigh of relief from Peggy when he works it out.

Eventually her breathing evens out and Steve thinks she might be asleep, but then Peggy turns to face him. Their faces are just inches apart and his breath catches. “Thank you,” she murmurs, like she’s being careful not to break the peaceful atmosphere.

“I meant what I said earlier.”

“I know.”

Once again, he grows bold in the dark. “I think you’re incredible.”

She smiles; his heart skips a beat. “Strong words coming from an actual superhero.”

He doesn’t get a chance to sputter out a rebuttal. Peggy leans in, her hand cupping his jaw, and she kisses him. If his brain had gone fuzzy earlier, it’s completely knocked offline with the feeling of Peggy’s lips, Peggy’s hands, Peggy’s body against his. _Peggy_.

“Happy Christmas, Steve.” The words are murmured against his lips and then she pulls away, tucking herself into his hold neatly, her face buried in his neck as he gets to hold her, gets to press a soft kiss to the crown of her head.

“Yeah,” he whispers, locking his arms around her waist.

There’s a small hole in the roof. Steve watches the sky clear as Peggy goes slack beside him, snoring softly in his ear.

Brightly above, the stars shine until they’re blotted out by the dawn. Steve doesn’t get to watch it happen—he’s fast asleep, holding her.

* * *

“Steven Grant Rogers, if you don’t come help me with these groceries, I _will_ ensure there is nothing in your stocking, so help me God.”

Steve snaps to, springing into action to help Peggy lug the bags from the car into the kitchen. The car was their big gift this year, a purchase he’d agonized over, but with SHIELD being based out of Lehigh, public transit isn’t really an option for Peggy anymore. Really, he should have insisted harder on a house near the base, but when Peggy had fallen in love with their house, full of light and cozy nooks, he couldn’t say no.

“Where’d you go?” Peggy asks, touching his cheek softly as if to bring him back to her. Her ring gleams in the light and sometimes he still can’t believe he’s the one who got to put it there.

“Huh?”

“You’re pretty lost in thought there, soldier.” She only ever calls him that these days when she’s teasing him.

“I was just thinking about Russia.”

“Odd thing to focus on, but do tell.”

“No, I mean… that night in the barn when the snowstorm hit.”

Peggy’s expression shifts from teasing into one of fond exasperation. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a completely hopeless romantic?”

“Yeah. You. Every day.”

She laughs; they’ve been married three years now, together nearly four, and he’s still proud when he’s the one to pull the sound from her. Tipping onto her toes, she kisses him. “You’re very lucky I married you for better or worse.”

“I’m very lucky you married me at all. You’re way out of my league.”

Again she chuckles, shaking her head. “As true as that is, hard to say no when someone moves all of heaven and earth to get back to one.”

“Wait, are you saying you only married me for the time travel?” It’s his turn to tease and he grabs her waist, tickling her gently, making her squirm.

“Damn it, Steve!” she cries, trying to wiggle from his grasp. He’s relentless though and keeps her laughing desperately.

“Well?”

“Fine, it wasn’t only the time travel! Happy now?”

Steve stops, using his grip on her hips to pull her close and kiss her deeply. “Very.”

The groceries sit unmoved until morning, stars shining brightly above as Peggy dozes against his chest, miles of bare skin against his. He keeps thinking he’s the happiest he’s ever been and he keeps being proved wrong. But that, he thinks, is no bad thing.


End file.
